


Being Evil Has a Price

by theliteraltrash



Series: Stydia as Deckerstar [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Detectives, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Case Fic, Detectives, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 21:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theliteraltrash/pseuds/theliteraltrash
Summary: Detective Lydia Martin believed she had a good grasp on the world and how it worked. Then, she met a man named Stiles who claimed to be the devil. Could her job get any weirder?OR Lydia is Chloe Decker and Stiles is Lucifer, watch Lucifer on Netflix.





	Being Evil Has a Price

Arriving on the scene outside the nightclub was shocking to say the least. Lydia’s curiosity was piqued. The owner of the nightclub, a man that people were calling Stiles, had been hugging the deceased as she was murdered. A hailstorm of bullets, and the man walked away perfectly fine. His expensive suit was clean, and he had taken off the suit jacket that was riddled with holes. The shirt and waistcoat were fine, however.

Aiden let the man walk back into the club after he introduced him to Lydia. “This is supposed to be my case,” she said to him.

Things have been rough between them since the split. It was obvious that they saw things differently, too differently for anything to work. “It is your case, but don’t take too long. This is an easy one,” he pointed at the crashed car, “that’s our bad guy. He’s a drug dealer, he dealt to her and things went south. Open and shut.” Except it wasn’t. Lydia knew it wasn’t. It almost never was. Aiden always thought it was, which is why even though he has a higher close rate than her he’s a worse detective.

When Lydia walked inside the club, she wasn’t sure how she felt. She recognized the song that was being played, but couldn’t believe he was playing it after a grisly murder. The man sat at the piano in the center of the club, idly playing Toxic by Britney Spears with a tumbler of scotch resting on the top. As she approached, his eyes lifted to her. He continued playing until she leaned her hip against the instrument. “I’m detective Lydia Martin, I was told you’re our key witness. You got a name?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Lucifer Morningstar? What is that like some kind of stage name?” She had to resist the urge to laugh at the man.

His fingers keyed part of the familiar tune, likely distracting himself. “God-given I’m afraid. You can call me Stiles, though. I prefer that.”

Stiles was still an odd name, but much easier to take seriously than  _Lucifer_. “Okay Stiles, do you mind telling me your relationship to the deceased?”

A sad smile ghosted his lips for a moment as he glanced at the piano. “She used to bartend here a couple years ago. Had a lovely voice, I would accompany her whilst she sang.” He began playing the softer instrumental part of the song. Suddenly he looked at her, taking a deep breath. “Then she became a big star and someone decided to end her life.” It was jarring to hear the deeper beginnings of the songs motif. Lydia assumed that this was a song that recurred during Caitlin’s performances at the club.

Lydia was used to people who were close to victims getting angry. She could handle this without any help, she was sure of it. “Did you know the shooter?” Standard questions. Maybe Lu- Stiles had known him. Maybe Stiles had bought from the dealer. He owned a nightclub, and Lydia knew exactly what happened at nightclubs like this. Rich people bought expensive drinks and did expensive drugs and went into the bathroom for a quickie. She’d done the same thing with Aiden while they were together, before Ariel came along.

“No, but I did have an interesting chat with him before he kicked the bucket,” the sarcastic smile was back on his face. He was so smug for someone so suspicious. “I asked him why he did it,” he raised his eyebrows for a second, looking into her eyes with his own vacant ones. Either what he witnessed broke him or he was already deeply deranged to begin with.

Lydia pursed her lips and raised her brows as she shifted her weight. “Did you now?” Scott had told her that the shooter had died on impact in the accident. Maybe she could get security footage to see if Mr. Morningstar had an accurate story. Then maybe she could figure out his deal. “What’d he say?”

He nodded. “Money. You humans sure do love your money.”

 _Wow, this guy is really fucking committed to this whole devil bullshit._  If he was telling the truth and the shooter said that he was doing this for money, it could be a hit. “It looks like an open-shut case. He was her dealer, she owed him but was being stingy and he took her out.” Maybe playing devil’s advocate would get him to talk.

There was a rage in his eyes that she realized was slowly building. “Caitlin wasn’t a drug addict, she was an alcoholic. She was telling me she was going to AA to mend her relationship with her girlfriend.”  _Bingo_. Just the little bit of information she needed.

“What I wanna know is how you walked away without a scratch,” she leaned closer to him, but he didn’t budge. The anger in his eyes melted to amusement. “Maybe they knew not to hit you.” Except, his jacket was destroyed. There was something about this that didn’t make sense.

He simply laughed, and if he wasn’t so suspicious she would find it attractive. “Detective you can’t possibly think I’m involved in her death just because I’m immortal.”

 _And we’re done here_. This was going from humoring a man to completely pissing her off. She took a deep breath, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. “You’re immortal?” He nodded. “Yeah, and I’m a fairy. Maybe Caitlin was a bullet magnet?”

“You’re feisty,” he rested his elbows on the top of the piano, lightly nudging his tumbler. “I like it,” the smile on his face was wide, cheshire-like, and there was a glimmer in his eyes. A shiver ran down Lydia’s spine as she searched his face for anything she could use. He cleared his throat and the smile fell as he sat up straight. “The vile excuse for a man said that he just pulled the trigger, if that helps any.”

Lydia nodded and swallowed. “Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt her?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “She was a bisexual icon in the music industry. Constant death threats went her way, people told her to kill herself. Many people wanted to hurt her.” It was as if the room got colder as the anger in his face shifted to sadness. “If you think this is an open-shut case I’ll just find whoever is responsible and bring them to justice myself.”

Lydia placed a hand on the piano and made sure to make eye contact. She wanted his full attention. “I’ll find out who did this. I’ll need your cooperation, and I need to get in contact with anyone close to her that might be responsible.” A smile ghosted his lips and he took a deep breath. “Okay, Stiles?”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

It had been several hours since the detective had left Lux, leaving Stiles alone with his demon Malia. They sat at the bar in the penthouse suit, drinking scotch. “The worst part about that human dying is that we can’t have the club open until they’re done,” she sighed before gulping down the amber liquid.

Stiles squinted as he thought about what their new day could bring. “Do you still have Erica’s cellular number?”

Malia laughed. “My King, I thought you said you had better things to do than to copulate with her.”

“She might have some coke,” he shrugged, placing his empty glass on the bar. Malia stood without asking, and moved behind the bar to grab the bottle of scotch.

The liquid was flowing at a steady pace, until it slowed to a halt with the telltale sound of wings. “Lucifer,” the familiar rumble of Stiles’ brothers voice caused the devil to turn.

The angel with great gray wings stood by the large window doors that lead to the balcony. He wore dark blue heavenly robes, contrasting with the pale blue of his eyes. His dark hair was cropped short, a style that many humans seemed to enjoy a fair amount. “The humans call me Stiles,” the Devil stated. “What do they call you, brother?”

“Derek,” the angel took a stride toward him. “But you know that’s not why I’m here,” he halted in his steps.

Stiles sighed, leaning against the bar. “Yes, you’re here to take me back to Hell. I’ll tell you no, you’ll threaten to kill me, I’ll tell you that father wouldn’t take too kindly to that, and you leave in a frustrated huff to go be with the wolves in the forest.”

There was another rustle of movement, Derek didn’t move from his spot several feet away. The sharp tip of his largest primary feather was against Stiles’ throat. Stiles let out a laugh, a wicked grin on his face as Derek leaned forward. “Do you think this is a game, brother?” Derek asked, his voice lowering an octave. “Or do you just not care?”

“He doesn’t care,” Malia stated flatly.

Derek’s glare shot to her. “Speak when spoken to, demon.”

“Leave, brother,” Stiles interrupted before they could get violent with each other. He’d rather not clean up the penthouse. “Or do you not remember our little deal?”

Derek stiffened and took a deep breath. He moved his wing off of Stiles’ throat and stood straight. “This isn’t over, Lucifer. You belong in Hell.”

Stiles had a quip ready on his tongue, but before he could get it out Derek was gone. Time resumed, and the scotch continued being poured. “Talk about dramatic,” Stiles rolled his eyes. Malia placed the bottle on the bar, and handed him the glass. “Thank you, darling.”

Malia bowed her head a bit and smiled, half of her smile hidden behind her white mask with painted on red lips. There was a moment of silence between them before the landline rang. Stiles drank the scotch as Malia answered. “Lux, this is Malia speaking.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed before handing the phone to Stiles. Stiles smiled before taking it. “You are now speaking to Stiles, state your desire and the devil will decide if it’s worth the time.”

“This is detective Lydia Martin from the Los Angeles Police Department-”

"Detective! Did you call to see if we could have a session with your bed and a pair of cuffs?" Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at Malia, causing her to roll her eyes.

The detective sighed. “You’re disgusting. I called to ask you if you knew where I could reach Caitlin’s girlfriend.”

“Meet me at Lux, I can take you to her.”

“That really isn’t necessary-”

“I believe that Emily would prefer it if a friend were there for emotional support,” Stiles made sure his voice sounded as sympathetic as possible, whereas his expression betrayed his giddiness at the thought of joining the detective in solving the case.

She took a deep breath. “Fine.”

“Excellent!”

* * *

 

Lydia had no idea what came over her when she agreed to let the obviously insane club owner join her to speak to Emily about Caitlin. Maybe it was because she remembered how attractive he was and how long it had been since she had a decent lay. Maybe it was his persistent annoyance. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she knew she was regretting the decision.

“Let me guess,” Stiles said, glancing at her chest and then back up to her face. “32B.”

Lydia’s jaw dropped and she turned to fully stare at him. “What?!”

He smirked, leaning against the car seat. “Your bra size. Am I wrong?”

She took a deep breath and turned away, unbuckling her seatbelt. He wasn’t, and she had no idea how he knew. She got out of the car and shook herself out of her state of shock. He followed her to the door of Emily’s house. When she stopped to knock, he just grabbed the doorknob and turned it. She watched as the door unlocked and opened.

“Emily, darling!” He called into the house, walking past Lydia.

This was going to be interesting.

* * *

 

After the interrogation with Emily, they discovered that Caitlin was seeing a therapist to help stay sober, and that she might have information that could help solve the case. So, they were on the way to her office. Then, the detective’s phone rang.

Stiles watched her answer it. She greeted whoever called her, then her expression changed to that of concern. “Is she okay?” She asked. There was a pause while the person replied. “I’ll be right there.”

She hung up, and then made a wrong turn. “I believe you were supposed to keep straight,” Stiles said.

“Detour,” Lydia stated. “My kid got in a fight, I have to pick her up.”

Stiles grimaced. “Can’t the creature take itself home?”

The detective took a deep breath. “She’s seven.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, and resigned himself to sitting in silence as the detective drove. After a few songs on the radio, they parked in front of a school.

“Stay here,” Lydia said before unbuckling her seatbelt.

Stiles watched her leave the car as he said. “Gladly.”

Once she was a safe distance away, Stiles got out of the car. He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, and took out a pack of cigarettes. As he went to put one between his lips, his eyes landed on a beautiful hunk of a man walking toward the building. Smiling, he put the cigarette away and followed him inside.

The seconds it took to get into the building were also long enough to lose him to the many rooms in the long hall. Stiles looked around, and took a deep breath. Since he couldn’t find the man nor the detective, he took a seat on the bench beside a small human with familiar strawberry blonde hair.

He sighed before reaching into his suit jacket again, this time grabbing his silver flask. “Excuse me sir,” the human said. Stiles looked at her, raising one of his eyebrows. “You’re not supposed to have alcohol in here.”

“Who said it was alcohol?”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

The girl sat up straight. “My mommy’s a cop, she could arrest you.”

Stiles smiled. “Detective Martin?” He asked.

She furrowed her brows and nodded. “Do you know her?”

“Well, we’re working on a case together.”

“Are you a cop?”

Stiles laughed, leaning against the wall. “I’m the devil.”

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Ariel,” the detective said, breaking Stiles out of his amusement. Stiles turned to look at her, only to see that she had caught sight of him and was scowling. “Stiles, I told you to stay outside.”

He shrugged before standing, putting his flask back in his jacket. “Followed a handsome teacher inside and lost him.”

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed her daughters hand.

* * *

 

Lydia and Stiles were getting out of the car to walk into Doctor Argent’s office when Scott called her. Stiles had huffed loudly at the sound of the phone ringing.

“Martin,” Lydia said when she answered.

“Hey, Lyds!” Lydia had to wince at his excitement. “So, the tech team took a look at that surveillance footage you asked about and you’re never going to believe this.”

Lydia glanced at Stiles, furrowing her brows. “What’s up?”

“Okay, so, one camera is pointed towards Lux, and it caught the shooting. Morningstar and the vic were walking out of the club, Lucifer had his arm around her shoulder and they were talking. She stopped, and then he did and they looked at each other and she said something. Then they hugged, and BOOM,” Scott paused for dramatic affect, “hailstorm of bullets, they both go down.”

At those words, Lydia couldn’t help but notice that Stiles was staring at something in the distance. “Really?” She asked, taking in the sight of the man standing in front of her. He was fine.

“Yeah, and then the accident happened, and there’s a full minute of nothing. Driver is dead, Caitlin is dead, and Morningstar is dead. He gasps, and sits up perfectly fine. Guy seems to realize what happened, and he gets up and strolls over to the car. He’s closer to the camera now, and he reaches in to the window and starts talking to the dead driver. Gets very pissed, and walks away.”

“So, you’re saying…”

“It’s like literally impossible, unless a miracle happened or something, Lyds. I don’t know how to explain it, but if it gets out in the open it’s gonna go viral.”

Lydia felt her chest heaving. “Thanks, Scott.”

When she hung up, she fully turned to Stiles. He had a smirk on his face, and the air around them grew cold. Lydia took a deep breath, and turned toward the door, then walked inside the building. Stiles followed her. “You’re looking at me like you think me dangerous,” he purred.

She shook her head. “I think you’re nuts,” she stated.

Thankfully, the light for Dr. Argent that signified if she was with a client or not was off, so Lydia knocked. She probably did so with more force than normally, but her hands were shaking.

There was a tense moment of silence before the door opened. “May I help you?” The brunette woman asked.

“Yes, I’m Detective Lydia Martin, and I’m here to ask you about a recent case if that’s alright with you Dr. Argent,” Lydia smiled.

She opened the door. “Please, call me Allison.”

* * *

 

“Jennifer Blake put your hands up,” Lydia said, pointing her gun at the record producer.

Jennifer was pointing a gun at Stiles, her eyes wide at the sight of him. He had somehow,  ~~magically,~~  gotten the woman to confess to paying the drug dealer to shoot Caitlin. “Get back!” She shouted.

Stiles smiled a cheshire-like grin and took a step forward. There was barely a second before Jennifer pulled the trigger, and at the sound Lydia did the same. Jennifer fell back, while Stiles stood tall. He turned to Lydia, his amused expression shifting to anger. “No! That’s not what she deserved! You let her off easy!”

Lydia lowered her gun, her eyes wide as she took a step toward him. There. He had just been shot, right in the heart, and he was fine. He didn’t even flinch. Stiles hadn’t worn a bulletproof vest, he even had a hole in his shirt from the bullet. “Oh my…” Lydia realized that the perfect skin under the shirt wasn’t bleeding. “Fuck,” she looked up at his face.

The anger in his expression morphed into understanding. “Detective?”

“You’re… you’re really-”

“The devil?” He smiled softly. She nodded. “Yes, I believe I already told you this. I’m also immortal.”

Lydia dropped her gun just before her body dropped.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work in what I plan on making a series; an alternate version of Lucifer where Stiles and Lydia are the leads but the detective learns the truth much earlier in their partnership.


End file.
